Surprise Attack
by Lady aracne
Summary: What started as a simple interview turned in to a chase and ended in a most strange attack.


**_A/N This was written for the Teammate Hurt Challenge in NFA. I hope you like. _**

**_Please review, I LOVE reviews!!_**

Surprise Attack

"Here is what I don't understand guys, Why would an 80-year-old, highly decorated Commander kill 6 people?" Tony asked, looking at the plasma monitor in the squad room.

On said monitor several faces looked back at him, driver licenses of 6 young women found dead over a period of several months.

"We are not sure he is guilty, Tony; not yet," Timothy McGee said for the tenth time, more or less.

"He has to be, Probie-San; all the evidence points to him."

"That's not true, Tony," Ziva said, sitting on her desk to look at the pictures again. "Abby hasn't finished with the DNA tests."

"Ziva is right, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, coming down the stairs from MTAC, hot cup of coffee in hand. "We do not make assumptions, we analyze the evidence."

"Ok, Boss, the evidence says Commander Riley is 80 years old, retired, living mostly alone, likes fishing and is a bookkeeper," Tony said as he read from the case report file.

"Beekeeper, Tony; not bookkeeper" Ziva corrected, sounding annoyed .

"Bees? I don't like buzzing thingies."

"What do you mean when you say he lives mostly alone. DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, he has a married daughter and 3 adult grandsons," Tim answered looking at his computer monitor. "Two of them live abroad: one in Italy and another one in France; the third one lives here, in Washington, and visits Commander Riley regularly," Tim added.

"And why am I just hearing about this, McGee?" Gibbs barked as he got next to Tony in front of the screen.

"Because Commander Riley's personal file was classified until 5 minutes ago Boss." Tim pressed a button and the face of a young man appeared on the plasma.

The man by the name of Collin Riley looked more like a rock band member than anything else; he was gawky, with spiky hair and a few tattoos were visible on his arms.

"Now this guy looks more like it," Tony said, smiling his million dollar smile.  


Tim's cell phone rang; he opened it, said yes to the caller and closed it in five seconds time.

"Abby wants us, Boss," he said, standing up.

"Us? Don't you mean she wants you, Probilicious?"

"DiNozzo!" barked Gibbs, while Tim turned a deep crimson color.

"Shutting up, Boss," Tony said happily, almost running towards the elevator along with every one else.

They all gathered in Abby's lab and got the confirmation they needed; the unidentified blood found on the last victim was male and had 7 markers in common with Commander Riley. He had to be from a relative.

"We got him, Boss," Tim said, smiling. "It has to be him, Collin Riley."

"You three go to see Commander Riley and ask him about his grandson's whereabouts; I have to meet the Director in MTAC in about 5 minutes," Gibbs said, looking at them before walking out of the lab.

_30 minutes later_

Retired Commander Joseph Riley lived in a McLean residence area, which they reached quite fast with Ziva behind the wheel. They had actually tossed a coin to decide who was driving and she had won, much to Tim and Tony's dismay.

After a terrifying 25 minutes they arrived unscathed to their destiny.

"Let me do the talking; after all, he is a hero," Tony said.

"And what does that have to do with asking about his grandson?" Ziva asked.

"Nothing, but I am the Senior Field Officer, it is my duty."

"Whatever, Tony," Tim added, ringing the bell at the door. They waited and waited, but no one came to the door.

"Let´s try the back." Ziva started walking around the house, her gun in hand. She was always careful; her experience had taught her not to trust any innocent scenario.

Tim and Tony followed, drawing their guns as well. Something was amiss. The place was too quiet and, according to Tim's research, the Commander almost never left his refuge.  


Tim looked inside one of the windows as they were circling the house.

"Guys, stop!" he almost yelled, "look!"

"Damn!" was the first word out from Tony's lips.

The window let them see into the dinning room. What they saw was the body of an old man hunched over the dinning room table, a bullet hole clearly visible on his back.

Tim used his cell phone to call the murder in and inform Gibbs, who instructed them to take a look around the property.

The three of them proceeded carefully towards the back of the house, which opened in to a wide garden full of trees; a tool shed was visible on the far end and 9 white, man-made beehives were settled next to it.

They continued walking, covering each other, thinking on clearing the yard first and then the house. It was highly unlikely that the murderer was still inside, but they had to check anyway.

Suddenly a figure bolted from behind a group of trees like lightning. Ziva started to run after him, closely followed by Tony and Tim.

"Federal agents! Collin Riley, stop!" Ziva yelled, pointing her gun at the running man, but he didn't stop. Instead he turned his upper body and started firing at them. Ziva couldn't take a good shot at him; the trees made her aiming difficult.

"Probie, duck!" Tony kept shouting at Tim as they ran.

"I know, Tony, shut up!" he yelled back, taking cover behind another tree.

They were very close to the tool shed by now, and Collin was still firing at them. Apparently he had more ammo on him, because he just kept reloading. Ziva, however, was gaining on him; she was faster than her teammates. Collin fired again, and this time hit a target.

Tony gave muffled moan and fell to the ground.

Tim turned around and saw that blood was coming from his partner's right thigh.

"It's just a scratch, McGee, go!" Tony said, covering his wound with both hands.

Collin Riley stopped his mad race for a second aiming his gun way above Tony's head. This allowed Ziva to reach him and tackle him to the ground seconds before Tim got to her, handcuffs in hand.  


Unfortunately, Riley was able to fire one last shot.

The blast sounded like thunder to Tony, who was still on the ground, the bullet hitting something in the distance; but some how it didn't sound quite right. There was a strange buzzing surrounding the distant blast.

He thought about the beehives, but looking towards them, saw they seemed intact. He could hear Ziva and Tim dealing with Riley, but the buzzing sound kept getting louder and louder. To his horror a black cloud was growing above him: a swarm!

Tim nearly jumped when he heard Tony scream. He was being covered by something black, his arms trying to dissolve the cloud attacking him.

He turned to Ziva.

"Watch him!" and he ran towards his friend, yelling, "Tony, don't move; close your mouth, those are African killer bees!"

He reached the beehives and grabbed a strange contraption; it was like a cross between a watering can and a vacuum cleaner and had been placed neatly against the wooden wall of the tool shed.

"Please, God, let this thing work," he thought, turning the device on. Thankfully, thick gray smoke started to coming out. He quickly covered the swarm attacking Tony with the smoke; immediately the insects started to retreat from their victim.

"Tony, keep still!" Tim said, but Tony wasn't hearing him. The horror of being covered by furious bees and the pain each sting was causing was more that he could deal with.

Tim grabbed Tony from under the arms and pulled him inside the shed. Ziva arrived a few seconds later, pushing a disgruntled Riley in front of her.

"Oh, Tony!" she exclaimed, when she saw him trashing on the floor covered in black little spikes. "What do I do Tim?" she asked, clearly shocked. At the same time she was using her own handcuffs to immobilize their captive, cuffing his feet.

"If you make even the smallest sound, I kill you, you hear?" Ziva said, in the coldest voice she could muster. Riley nodded.

"Take out your knife and try to take out all the stingers you can. Start with his mouth. Quickly, Ziva , poison will continue to be released for 2 or 3 minutes more from each of them," Tim said urgently as he went through every cabinet inside the shed, finding what he was looking for inside one of them.

He returned to Tony's side carrying two syringes that looked like fat writing pens, both 

filled with clear amber liquid.

"What's that, Tim?" Ziva asked while carefully passing her combat knife over every bit of Tony's exposed skin, removing as many stingers as she could.

"Epi-pen. They are filled with adrenaline; this will slow any allergic reaction. Even if Tony is not allergic to bee poison, he was stung too many times."

Tim removed the plastic cap from one of the Epi-pens and in one swift motion injected Tony on his uninjured thigh. He didn't even flinch.

By now Tony's eyes were swollen shut, his lips and tongue, too. Ziva was getting very worried; he was not moving as much anymore, and his breathing was getting erratic as well.

Tim opened his cell phone again and dialed 911, asking for help, and letting them know there were Killer bees somewhere around them; the swarm would reform their hive again soon.

"Tim, he is swelling up!"

"I'll give him the second shot, let's hope it buys us more time." Tim opened the second pen and delivered the dose as fast as he could.

"How come you know so much about this, Tim?" Ziva asked, looking scared, which was very strange for her.

The thing was that the beautiful Mossad agent had experience in all sorts of combat situations, but when it came to Mother Nature's business, it was a completely unknown field for her. She felt at a disadvantage and she was scared for Tony.

"My sister, Sarah, is severely allergic to bee poison. She almost died when she was about 6; my parents and I took a special first aid course, just in case. She has one of these," he said, showing her the Epi-pen, "at all times with her. I just hope emergency services arrive soon."

He was, in fact, very worried. Tony was having trouble breathing, his windpipe was closing due to swelling and he had been stung inside his mouth. Tim had to make a decision, and soon.

"I think he is getting worse by the minute," Ziva said, alarmed.

"Ziva, give me your knife."

She gave it to him. Tim took out a writing pen from his coat, took the ink cartridge out and discarded it. He now had a clear plastic tube in one hand and Ziva's knife in the 

other.

"I am going to try and help Tony breathe easier; I have not lost my mind, ok?" She nodded. "Hold his head steady."

Tim carefully felt Tony's throat, locating the place he knew was the correct one. With one stroke he made a small but profound cut under Tony's Adam´s apple. Ziva went pale, but did nothing but hold Tony in place; he was clutching her arms so hard that his knuckles were white with the effort.

Tim quickly introduced the plastic tube through the cut. Tony immediately relaxed as the air got into his oxygen starved lungs. Both Ziva and Tim breathed in relief.

The buzzing sound returned in full force; the killer bees were starting a new hive on the window next to the door. It looked as if someone had painted a blackish triangle on the outside of the crystal; a live triangle.

"Oh no! How are we going to get Tony out?" Ziva asked, almost in tears.

Sirens started to sound in the distance.

"Firemen will have to get rid of the bees first, Ziva; we can't get out until they have," Tim answered, checking Tony's condition closely.

He hardly looked like himself: his face was swollen all the way down to his neck and chest, and he was covered in angry, red marks.  
Tony was in terrible pain, but Ziva was holding him down so the tube would stay in place until the paramedics could reach them and take care of it.

Outside, the yard was suddenly filled with Firemen, paramedics and federal agents.

Using the easiest and fastest way to get rid of the angry insects, soapy water, two firemen dressed in protective gear took care of the hive in minutes.

Gibbs blasted through the door, gun in hand, just to stop cold at the sight before him.

"Boss, we need the paramedics ASAP," Tim yelled, causing Gibbs to move aside and allow them to come in.

In no time they had Tony hooked to an IV, flushing him with antihistamines, and a proper breathing tube was attached to his throat. The improvised tracheotomy would have to be closed at the hospital. Ziva refused to let go of Tony's hand when they were done, getting inside the ambulance with him.

Gibbs and Tim took care of placing Riley into custody and finally took care of Commanders Riley's lifeless body and the crime scene; even though they already had 

the culprit, procedures had to be followed to ensure conviction. It was not until late the next day that Tim was able to make it to the hospital, even Abby and the Director had already been to see Tony.

Tim knew Tony was out of danger now, although the swelling would take a few days to ease down. The cut on his neck had been sutured closed with no troubles, and the same was true for the bullet grazing on his thigh.

McGee opened the door carefully, not wanting to wake up his partner in case he was asleep. A cheery voice greeted him.

"The Bee Master has arrived!" Tony chanted. Sitting on the bed, he could see Tim through a half opened eye; the other one was still swollen shut.

Tim couldn't help but laugh.

"How are you feeling, Tony?"

"Like a fluffy pillow, McBee; but better thanks to you," Tony said in a more serious tone.

"I just did what I had to do Tony," Tim answered, blushing a little at the compliment.

"You saved my life, Probie."

"You would have done the same."

"I would have tried, but probably not succeeded. Thank you, Tim," Tony said before adding, "I will, of course, have a beautiful scar on my neck forever; the ladies will love it!"

"Well I don't know about that. What I do know, from a reliable Gothic source, is that a certain Israeli operative had not left your side for more than 24 hours and that she had to be physically removed from this room so she could get some rest," Tim said with a mischievous smile.

"Err … I … well… none of your business, McGee," Tony muttered, to Tim's delight.

"Feel better, Tony. I have to get back to headquarters," Tim said, standing up.

When he was about to close the door behind him, Tony called him back.

"Tim!"

"What is it, Tony?"  


"You are a good friend, Probie."

Tim smiled broadly and closed the door. It was good to know that Tony considered him a good friend, but the most important thing was that Tony was going to be okay.

"You are a good friend too, Tony," he said to himself before walking away.

THE END


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